


8 Months

by kaliebee



Series: Original Works [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 13:58:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15074645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaliebee/pseuds/kaliebee
Summary: It’s been eight months since she left and he still loves her.





	8 Months

It’s been eight months since she left and he still loves her.

He can still hear her voice sometimes. Late at night, when he’s finished showering and brushing his teeth and putting the sheets back on the bed because he has to wash them every day or else he won’t be able to sleep. He can picture her lying next to him, smiling gently, leaning close and whispering  _ You know I love you, right? _

He remembers the way she’d dance anytime Beyoncé came on, the way she’d spin and spin until she was dizzy and would collapse on the couch, giggling until her face was as red as her hair. Recalls the day she taught him to braid her hair, the way her curls were so soft in his hands. The way he’d tugged playfully and she’d elbowed his leg, telling him he was a jerk but then smiling at him through the mirror.

Everywhere he looks, she’s there. She’s in the coffee he drinks, she’s at his desk at work, she’s at the flower shop he passes every day to get to the subway station. She’s everywhere and nowhere and he wants to scream because she won’t leave him alone, won’t leave his memories.

He wishes he could forget her, sometimes. But then he curls up on the couch and can feel her hair in his lap, feels her breath on his skin and he never wants to forget her. It’s like tug-of-war, and he’s the rope. He hates being the rope.

He misses her more than he ever thought he could miss another human being. Remembers the way her face lit up when he got down on one knee, the way her dress swished around her thighs as they danced in the living room that night. In his memories, she was perfect. She was an angel and he loves her and she loves him and everything was perfect.

He ignores the way his stomach used to drop when she came in the door. The way her voice sounded like broken glass when she yelled, the way her face would resemble a demon from the myths his parents used to tell him about. The way she would scream when they argued, hitting him over and over as he tried to push her away.

He forgets the way her voice would ring in his head, how his heart felt so heavy, how the sight of her face made him sick. How her rages used to make him feel two feet tall even though he towered over her. The way she would whisper  _ You know I love you, right?  _ after every time she destroyed him, eyes full of love and hate and everything in-between.

He forgets the bad parts of her and recalls only the good because it’s been eight months and he still loves her.


End file.
